


Home is where the heart is (so my home is you)

by Transdodds



Category: Groundhog Day - Minchin/Rubin
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 20:14:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13748436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transdodds/pseuds/Transdodds
Summary: Phil and Rita's path to 'I love you'





	Home is where the heart is (so my home is you)

**Author's Note:**

> This can be taken as existing in the same time-line as my other two trans Phil fics, but also it doesn't have to, as always feedback is greatly appreciated

Rita woke up to an empty bed, which unfortunately hadn’t been all that uncommon recently. Between Rita being given more work and talk of a promotion after the success of the Groundhog day broadcast and a month of ‘freak’ weather leading to Phil doing another daily weather broadcast focusing specifically on the storms affecting the US, they had both been working long hours. Phil had given Rita a key to his apartment two weeks ago, and while she hadn't officially moved in, she stayed over so often she might as well have, but even so he had often already collapsed asleep by the time she returned home, and was out of bed to examine new data before she woke up. 

She knew neither of them were to blame for the fact that they were existing like ships passing in the night, and that it was likely to slow down in a few weeks and they could go back to regular dates, or anything more than rushed lunchtime talks. But that didn’t mean she had to enjoy barely being able to spend time with the man she loved. 

And it was true, she loved Phil. She was only starting to realise it herself and she wasn’t ready to tell Phil, not with work the way it was. Well, that’s what she was currently using as an excuse, in truth there were a multitude of complex reasons and excuses preventing her from telling him. Rita had been warned by all of her co-workers about Phil, and she meant all of them, even people she’d spoken to before maybe once. About how he was a jerk, an asshole, how she’d get her heart broken, how she meant nothing to him. She knew it wasn’t true, that just one look in his eyes dismissed all their warnings, but that didn’t stop the nagging voice in her head telling her to be careful. She’d had her heart broken by people who seemed perfect, who knew what someone who came with several warning signs would do to her. There was also the fact she doubted Phil would be ready to hear it. She wasn’t sure what he was dealing with, and she knew, well she hoped, he’d tell her when he was ready, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t noticed that he was definitely going through something. 

But still, she hoped he knew, hoped he saw how much she loved him despite not saying the words. She hoped he saw the cappuccino she put on his desk with a small note while he was at an early morning meeting for what it was. A reminder that she wanted him to be happy, that she wanted to improve his day any way she could, that she cared about him, that she loved him. She was pretty sure he understood when he responded to her apologetic text that she wouldn’t be able to make their daily lunch date by leaving a chicken caesar salad made exactly the way she liked it on her desk that day. 

Unfortunately for Rita, while Phils schedule started to calm down slightly, her days stayed as hectic as ever, not that she was complaining. She was finally getting more responsibility and choice in projects, instead of being saddled with the tasks no one else wanted. 

But more work was still more work, no matter how much she enjoyed it, and her mother visiting her that weekend wasn’t helping the stress headache that was beginning to creep in behind her eyes that Friday evening, especially not when her mother's time of arrival was edging closer and closer and Rita was still at work instead of at her apartment making it presentable. 

There was a knock on the door of her office, and after taking several calming breaths to stop herself from telling whoever was probably going to give her more to fuck off, she told them to enter. As it turned out it wasn’t someone about to make her evening even more painful, but someone who she was sure was going to do his best to make it better. Her boyfriend, Phil. 

“Hey, I’m just about to head out, I was wondering if I could borrow your apartment key” 

“Did you lose yours?” Rita asked, fishing into the pocket of the jacket hanging on the back of her chair for the spare for Phils flat that she kept on her keyring

“What? Oh, no for your apartment”

“Uh, why?”

“Well it’s not going to clean itself now, is it?” Phil said with a slight smile, his palm outstretched, waiting for the key. 

“I- thank you” 

“It’s no problem, just focus on work. But please get back before eight, I… care for you deeply but I draw the line at making awkward small talk with you mom alone” Rita just smiled in response, a sense of warmth and affection swelling up within her as she accepted the kiss on the cheek and the taken keys as what they were. Another small, unspoken, declaration of love. 

When Rita entered her apartment she was stunned at how spotless it was, the open books scattered around the living room that she had been meaning to put away for months were actually put away, the wood floor had been mopped, and from what she could see of the kitchen that floor had received the same treatment, as well as the dishwasher having been run. The wonderful man who had done all this was wiping down the coffee table, getting rid of the old coffee stains that marked its service, but he looked up and flashed her a winning smile when he heard her enter. 

“Hey, so your mom should be here in about half an hour, which gives me just enough time to finish wiping down the table and then make my exit”

“Phil, we talked about this. I really want you to meet her”

“She’s not going to like me.” Phil stated with the certainty of someone repeating a scientifically proven fact.

“You don’t know that, trust me, it’s going to be fine”

“All moms hate me, and before you ask why, it’s because when they search me up they see articles upon articles of me being a dickwad”

“Look, I’m sure they’re not all that bad” Rita said, whipping out her phone and typing in his name “See, look this is about your groundhog speech, this one is about the charity event last month, this is about the talk you gave at the local school, that doesn’t sound like dickwad behaviour to me”

“Look at the second page” Phil said, not even stopping what he was doing. Rita sighed internally, not even bothering to click next, she knew what was coming and that he was right. When she started working at Channel five she’d been given notes on all the main tv personalities, Phils had been so large it had been moved from a manilla file to a proper folder and included pages upon pages of less than flattering news stories. But she knew he had changed and that no matter what her mom had read, she’d see who he really was as soon as she met Phil. 

“Look, it won’t matter. She might not like you at first-”

“She won’t”

“Not if you keep interrupting people”

“Sorry, go on”

“She might not like you at first, but as soon as she sees how happy you make me she’ll, well she won’t make it obvious at least”

Phil didn’t quite laugh at that, but despite his nerves he still let out a huff of amusement. “That makes me feel so much better”

“Good, now I’m going to get changed and you better not try and sneak out while I’m gone”

“Me? I’d never”

“That’s what I thought. Trust me Phil, it’s going to be okay” Rita said, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze as she passed, a squeeze like the one she gave his hand as she opened the door to her mother just twenty minutes later. A squeeze that meant she was there for him, that she cared about him, a small sign of affection she hoped would help soothe his nerves. 

 

The meeting didn’t go that badly, or at least not as bad as Phil had feared. Rita’s mom Sarah hadn’t been the warmest when they first met, treating with with coldness and suspicious, if not outright contempt. But Rita was right, as she was in so many things, and Sarah slowly seemed to warm to him so that by the time they left, while it would be inaccurate to say she was overjoyed that he was dating Rita, she seemed happy her daughter was happy and ready to treat Phil with civility. 

The same positive outcome could not be said to occur during Phils meeting with his own mother a few months later. Phil hated family get-togethers, okay that wasn’t completely true, he’d reconciled with his sister Mary and they tried to call each other at least once a week, but he definitely hated meeting up with his parents. In the past he’d pretended it was because he was too good for them, too important, too famous, but deep down he knew it was because he was scared that he wouldn’t be good enough, that no matter what he achieved or how high he climbed he wouldn’t be the daughter they imagined. He’d never be what they wanted. He’d never be enough for them. 

He’d hoped moving state would be enough to deter them, or hell his father disowning him the second he legally changed his name, but while his father thankfully maintained his policy of silence in their relationship, his mother was determined to continue making the 2 hour drive to see him for lunch every year around her birthday. 

He knew he should stop agreeing to see her, knew that he didn’t owe her a thing. Not after she didn’t do anything when he was chucked out of the house, on thanksgiving of all days, because he dared to talk back to his father and correct him on his name. Not after all the times she just let his dad shout at him, the words cutting like daggers as she stood silent beside her husband. Except for the fact that he knew his mother had her own problems do deal with, and that his father was a controlling megalomaniac and so he couldn't’ help feel sympathy mixed in with the anger and bitterness. And he knew that she wanted him to be happy, even if she wished he was happy the way she wanted him to be. All the kind words, the hugs, the times she’d wiped away his tears, it added up and Phil didn’t have it in him to decline. 

Which was why one morning in October he stood fiddling with his tie in front of the bathroom mirror before, despite the fact it was tied in a perfect half-Windsor knot, tugging it lose and pulling it over his head. He could feel Rita’s eyes on him and turned to see her slouched in the open doorway, one eyebrow slightly raised. 

“I’m, uh, not really feeling the tie, today. Actually, I was thinking I might wear a cardigan” Phil said, ignoring the tie that now lay crumpled on the floor, and moving over to the cupboard, digging through it to find the old, but barely worn, green cardigan he knew lurked in their somewhere. 

“I didn’t realise you owned a cardigan”

“Yeah, I don’t wear it that- aha! Here we go- often” Phil said, triumphantly dragging out his arm, holding in his grip a rumpled, deep green cardigan. He tugged it on, trying not to notice how uncomfortably it stretched over his shoulders and how wrong it looked and felt on him. 

“You sure you don’t want to consider going back to the tie”

“What, you think I can’t pull this off” Phil said, with a smirk, trying not to show how much he really did want to change back. 

“Oh, you can totally pull that off, but to be fair you can pull off most things. But do you want to wear it?”

“I just- look there’s no reason for me to be in-her-face about everything” Phil said, with a shrug, well as much of a shrug as he could manage, and jeez how small was this cardigan for him?

“It’s not my place to say anything, and it’s completely your decisions, but, look being who you are is not being in someone’s face, it’s just existing.”

“I know, I just, I want us to at least try and get off to a good start. After all the times I’ve fucked up in the past, she deserves that”

Rita just nodded, swallowing any arguments she had about what Phil deserved. She knew Phil had made up his mind about what he was going to do, and that her trying to change it would only make things more difficult for him. “I… okay, well go, have fun and know I’ll be here waiting for you with a bunch of chinese takeout and the latest Discovery episode.” She said, moving almost on instinct to grab at his tie to use it to pull him down for a kiss, before improvising and taking the edges of his cardigan and tugging until she was able to capture his lips. 

Phil said something against her lips as they pulled apart, so muffled she could barely hear it and it took her a few seconds to work out what he had said.

“You… you love me?” the surprise in her voice coming not from hearing that he loved her, she’d been pretty sure of that fact for a while now, but instead that he’d chosen this moment, of all possible moments, to tell her. 

“I… sorry, is it too early to be saying things like that?” God, he was an idiot, Phil thought, it hadn’t meant to slip out. But the combination of the nerves and apprehension about lunch and how understanding Rita was and the comfort she offered had lowered his guard. He’d kept that truth inside of him for awhile know, not since the beginning, not really. Yes he had loved her, but he had loved the ideal of her as first the unattainable and then as his saviour, but quickly he had grown to love Rita the person, he just didn’t want to pressure her. He was aware of the head start he had received in their relationship, but here he was, pushing her when all she’d been doing was trying to help him. 

“Phil it’s been eight months. I just, was surprised you said it now, It was unexpected that’s all, but certainly not unwanted. Not when I love you too”

“I…” Phil started, unsure of how to respond. He’d known, well he’d hoped that she had felt that way about him, but something about hearing the actual words filled him with such warmth it just about pushed out the cold dread he had been feeling all morning. 

Phil wished he could say that the warm feeling stayed with him throughout lunch and made it bearable but that would’ve been a lie. When he stumbled back into the apartment, and collapsed down on the couch all he felt was an overwhelming sense of disappointment and exhaustion. The lunch had gone… better than expected, or at least no one had stormed off this time, but that was only because they both made efforts to quickly change the subject or ignore a point whenever necessary. 

“Hey, Phil, are you okay? How was it?” Rita said, instantly stroking her hands through his hair, as he lay his head in her lap.

“It was okay, I’m good, I just, I just need some time to become me again” Phil replied, his voice muffled. That had been one of the most tiring things about lunch in fact, building up a persona again. He'd been living behind one for so long, the image of the ideal Casanova man, so scared someone would dig beneath the surface and discover his past if he was anything less than stereotypes dictated he should be. The loop, the freedom that he could be who he wanted and no one would remember and then Rita's acceptance of him without the walls had been so freeing that building a new face, especially one so opposite to who he was at his core and wearing it just so he could carry a conversation with his mother had been emptying, had made him feel so wrong, like his world had been tilted slightly on its axis. But Rita's hand in his hair, grounding him to reality, and her comforting murmurs and conversations about nothing slowly brought him back. 

Phil wasn’t really sure how they’d got here, Rita pulling off her shirt, as he stood in front of her in only his boxers, his trousers having been discarded somewhere between their walk from the living room, where they’d been making out like teenagers until Rita mentioned that they weren’t, in fact, teenagers and the bedroom was right there. Okay, so maybe he did know how he got here, but he wasn’t sure what was leading to him curling his fingers around the hem of his white undershirt, preparing to pull it off. 

He also wasn’t sure why it had taken him this long to get to this point, why, despite know Rita wouldn’t mind, despite knowing that the scars were small and had healed so well they were barely noticeable, it had taken him the verbal reassurance that Rita loved him and the need, the insatiable need to be seen completely and fully for once that led to him pulling the white cotton fabric over his head and dropping it on the floor.

He searched Ritas face, desperately needing to see her reaction, to quiet the fears he knew were irrational but still couldn’t dismiss. He had no reason to worry, Rita's face was easy to read and he eagerly drank in the look of awe, and wonder and, and love in her eyes as she slowly reached out to touch him.  
“I love you” He said, before Rita’s lips on his made it impossible for him to speak any further. She slowly pushed him onto the bed and he fell among the pillows and she moved down on top of him, muttering words of praise and wonder about how handsome he was, how beautiful, how lucky she felt to have him here, how much he was loved, the sentiment coming across not only in every word she uttered but in every look, in every touch and he sank into that feeling, completely at home within it as Rita slowly took him apart.

The bed dipped slightly and the covers shifted as Rita slipped into the bed, curling around Phil, and he relaxed into her. It was perfect, everything was perfect, well almost.  
“I love you” Phil said, feeling a bit weird talking to the wall. But the small, happy hum Rita gave in response and the way she squeezed him slightly tighter told him she was listening.  
“I love that I never have to pretend, that I never have to hide with you. I love that you’re kind, compassionate, almost as smart as me-” Phil broke off with a slight chuckle as Rita lightly shoved him “Okay, smarter than me, much smarter than me. And you’re beautiful, and patient, so patient you waited eight months for me to say I love you- okay, okay that was also, partly my fault” He added in response to another shove

“But we got there in the end”

“Yeah, we sure did” Phil relaxed back into Rita before speaking again ‘Wait, no sorry, I had a point to all this-”

“That makes a change”

“I’m trying to be sincere! Right, yes I love you, I do, but damn do I hate how cold your feet are against my leg”

“What happened to being sincere!” Rita said, as they both burst out laughing

“I am being sincere, I sincerely dislike how cold your feet are. Are your feet actual blocks of ice, is that it? Are you secretly half penguin, a ware-penguin, is that it?”

“You’re ridiculous”

“But you love me”

“But I love you” Rita said, smiling into his shoulder, amazed at how true that statement was, at how much she loved this man, this ridiculous, sarcastic, funny, kind, generous, wonderful man. The two of them fell asleep, unable to believe how lucky they were to be with the other, and feeling completely safe and at home wrapped up in each other's arms.


End file.
